On August 27, 2025, a new chapter unfolded in the ongoing international case against former Philippine President Rodrigo Duterte, as the International Criminal Court (ICC) in The Hague received a fresh batch of victim applications seeking participation in his possible trial for alleged crimes against humanity. The development, reported by Inquirer and confirmed by the ICC Registry, signals a growing momentum behind efforts to hold Duterte accountable for the controversial and bloody war on drugs that marked his years in power.
According to the ICC's Victims Participation and Reparations Section (VPRS), 25 additional victim applications were transmitted to the court’s Pre Trial Chamber I. This latest submission included 15 applications from Group A and 10 from Group B. These groups, while not detailed in public records due to confidentiality, represent individuals and families directly and indirectly affected by the campaign that has drawn global condemnation. The new applications add to the 303 people from Group C whose applications were submitted just a week earlier, on August 20. All told, hundreds of Filipinos are now seeking a voice in the proceedings, hoping to share their stories and, perhaps, see some measure of justice done.
The ICC’s process for victim participation is a vital, if often overlooked, part of its work. Victims do not simply serve as witnesses; they are recognized as parties with the right to present their experiences, seek reparations, and influence the course of justice. In this case, the applicants include not just those who survived violence or lost loved ones, but also family members and relatives who have suffered psychological harm as a result of the crackdown. Their testimonies will be heard during pretrial hearings, and—should the case proceed—during the trial itself.
The timeline of alleged abuses under scrutiny stretches from November 2011, when Duterte was still mayor of Davao City, through March 2019. The latter date marks the Philippines’ withdrawal from the Rome Statute, the treaty that established the ICC, a move ordered by Duterte himself as international pressure mounted. The period encompasses the entirety of Duterte’s presidency, which began in June 2016 and was defined by a relentless anti-drug campaign.
Official government data puts the death toll from the war on drugs at a minimum of 6,000 lives lost. However, human rights watchdogs and the ICC prosecutor estimate that the true number is far higher—between 12,000 and 30,000 deaths from 2016 to 2019 alone. The discrepancy has been a point of contention in both domestic and international debates, with critics accusing the Duterte administration of gross underreporting and systematic cover-ups. Many of the victims, rights groups say, were urban poor, killed in police operations or by vigilantes allegedly acting with official sanction.
The legal proceedings against Duterte have moved swiftly in recent months. On March 12, 2025, he was arrested at Ninoy Aquino International Airport in Manila. He was detained at Villamor Air Base the same day, before being transferred to The Hague, where he now awaits further judicial action. His pretrial hearing took place on March 14, 2025, and the confirmation of charges hearing is scheduled for September 23, 2025—a date that is already looming large in the minds of many Filipinos, both at home and abroad.
For those following the case, the question is not only whether Duterte will stand trial, but also what justice will look like for the thousands of families left grieving. The ICC’s victim participation process is designed to give those affected a measure of agency, allowing them to present their stories directly to the court. The applications themselves remain confidential, to protect the identities and safety of those involved, but the growing number of applicants is testament to the depth of pain and the desire for accountability among those touched by the drug war.
ABS-CBN, the Philippines’ leading media and entertainment company, has played a crucial role in documenting these developments and keeping the public informed. As of September 5, 2025, the network has confirmed that the ICC Registry continues to receive and process victims' participation applications in the Duterte case. The process is ongoing, and more applications may yet be submitted as the confirmation hearing approaches.
Behind the legal jargon and courtroom drama, however, lie deeply personal stories. For every application submitted, there is a family that lost a son, a daughter, a parent, or a sibling. Some applicants are survivors themselves, while others are relatives who have struggled with the psychological aftermath of violence. Their participation in the ICC process is not just about seeking punishment for Duterte; it is also about recognition, dignity, and the hope that their suffering will not be forgotten or dismissed.
The ICC’s Victims Participation and Reparations Section has emphasized the importance of including those who suffered indirect harm—relatives who endured trauma, loss of livelihood, or social stigma as a result of the killings. According to Inquirer, these individuals will have the opportunity to share their testimonies during both the pretrial and, if it proceeds, the trial proper. Their voices, often marginalized in domestic forums, will be heard on the international stage.
The case against Duterte is being closely watched not only in the Philippines but around the world. Human rights advocates see it as a test of the ICC’s ability to hold powerful leaders accountable, even when they attempt to shield themselves through legal maneuvers such as withdrawing from the Rome Statute. Supporters of Duterte, meanwhile, argue that the campaign was a legitimate response to a national crisis, and that the ICC has no jurisdiction over a sovereign state’s internal affairs. The debate has become a flashpoint in the Philippines’ ongoing struggle over the rule of law, democracy, and the meaning of justice.
As the September 23 confirmation of charges hearing draws near, the eyes of many will be fixed on The Hague. Will the court find sufficient evidence to proceed to trial? Will the victims’ stories sway the judges? And, perhaps most importantly, what lessons will be drawn from this unprecedented international reckoning with one of Southeast Asia’s most controversial leaders?
For now, the process continues—slow, methodical, and fraught with emotion. But for the hundreds of victims who have stepped forward, participation in the ICC case offers a rare chance to be heard, to seek redress, and to remind the world that behind every statistic is a human life forever changed.
